


To Keep Safe

by FFanon



Category: Daredevil (TV), The Punisher (TV 2017)
Genre: Angst and Feels, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Fluff, Mild Smut, mentions of Maria Castle - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-30
Updated: 2017-08-09
Packaged: 2018-12-08 23:38:41
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 10
Words: 14,052
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11657067
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FFanon/pseuds/FFanon
Summary: Frank's actions end up putting you in danger.  Together, you figure out a way to stop it.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This fic I had started months ago and ended up abandoning it due to lack of ideas. It started off being inspired by The Punisher filming pictures of Jon, as Frank, stealing the NYPD patrol car. I initially intended for it to be a one-shot but as you see it grew into a possibly ten chapter fic. I hope you all enjoy it :)

Every one of his raised scars and every one of his muscles, you feel against your own naked body as you lay on top of him. 

 

Frank’s head is nestled in the crook of your arm that you have underneath it, your hand up and around tenderly petting his stubble as you kiss him slow and deep.  You rest your other hand on his chest, your legs laying between his. He rests his hand on the curve of your butt, his other is sliding into your hair.  

 

Frank’s made some changes since you first met. One of his safe houses now has more than one big room and has more space. This comes in handy for privacy because he has also reached out to an old friend of his. A genius with technology who helps Frank so in return Frank acquired numerous computers and other equipment that he had Micro set up in the safe house.  The downside, Micro comes and goes as he pleases thus the need for privacy with finally having a bedroom. 

 

Frank’s tongue slips in every now and then and you can’t help but smile into the kiss slightly when it does. 

 

There’s a knock on the door, a muffled “Frank” following. 

 

Frank pulls away very briefly, “Ignore him” he whispers. Fast but gently, he flips you over so he’s the one on top, kissing you deeply.  He resumes caressing your face, his leg between yours, thigh pressing between yours. 

 

A quiet moan from your lips is interrupted when Micro knocks at the door again, “Look, I know the rule, but I have something to show you.”  The rule being when the door is closed, don’t bother knocking. 

 

Frank groans and pulls away before dropping his head to your collarbone. He presses a few kisses to your skin, “I’m gonna kill him.” 

 

You laugh at his sweet actions paired with the angry words. You run a hand through his hair that’s growing longer on top and he lifts his face in response, kissing you quick. 

 

He stands up and you run a hand through your hair as you sit up on your elbows watching his cute, tight butt as he walks to where he left his boxer briefs on the floor. He bends over and pulls them on then turns to look at you to make sure you’re covered before he opens the door. 

 

He raises an eyebrow, a lopsided smirk on, when he sees you already looking at him. You blush but you give a little shrug with a small smirk which makes him chuckle.  You move back to lean against the headboard, sheets tucked in under your arms so your chest is covered. 

 

When Frank opens the door, he opens it just enough and stands so his body blocks the view of the room, “What is it?” 

 

“Hey!” Micro says to you, peeking over Frank’s shoulder, having not seen you yet today.  

 

You wave quick, embarrassed by the situation. 

 

“Hey!” Frank almost barks at him, “Eyes over here.” 

 

Micro clears his throat and starts talking low to Frank about whatever was so important.  You can only make out a word here and there so you give up trying to hear. As your eyes scan over the clock and you see what time it is, you frown a little - you need to start getting ready for work. 

 

Standing up, but making damn sure the sheet is still around you, you walk into Frank’s bathroom.  You brush your teeth then step into the shower. The warm water feels amazing and you just stand under it letting it flow over your face as you push your hair back. 

 

It just takes you a few minutes to wash your body and then your hair. As the last of the shampoo is rinsed out, the shower curtain is pulled back and a muscled body steps in. 

 

“Wasn’t finished with you,” his arms wrapping you up as he kisses your neck. 

 

You stretch your arms out as you rest them on his shoulders, your fingers dancing against each other. He moves his kisses up your neck, down your jaw, until he’s on your lips. 

 

Pulling your arms in, you hold the back of his head as you glide your hand down his body. 

 

“I have to get ready,” you teasingly protest. 

 

“You able to spare a few minutes?” as he grabs the back of your thighs and lifts you up to sit around his hips. 

 

“You play dirty,” you laugh. 

 

“Damn right I do,” he smirks. 

 

With your back against the shower wall, he pushes into you. 

 

~~~

 

You grab your bag and sling it over your shoulder. Frank’s next to you, “Be careful, okay?”  With Karen doing well at the paper and getting more articles to write, you help do the digging for information. 

 

“You too,” you touch his cheek. 

 

He leans in and kisses you. Frank gets the door for you and you squeeze his side as you walk past him, “Bye David,” you add and Micro shouts a “see you later”. 

 

Frank closes the door after you, a grin on his face that he doesn’t realize he’s wearing. 

 

He wipes his hand over his mouth and smirks as he walks up behind Micro, arms crossed against his chest. 

 

They go over the latest with Billy Russo’s, friend turned foe, criminal empire. Frank recently blew up one of his warehouses destroying his product and killing some of his men. 

 

Frank’s pouring over some case files he stole from the warehouse before turning it into a pile of ash.  Micro works on trying to hack into one or more of Russo’s systems to find more information. 

 

A couple hours pass when Frank looks up in confusion as Micro starts cursing.  

 

“Oh shit! Son of a bitch!” He’s manically tapping the keyboard when Frank’s behind him. 

 

“What’s the problem?” 

 

“His system…I knew that firewall was too easy....” Micro is checking multiple screens, “...he had a virus waiting…” and just then Russo’s face takes over the three screens Micro was using. 

 

Frank furrows his brow and takes a step back to look at them better. 

 

“Knew it’d only be a matter of time before you tried to dig deeper…” Russo says. 

 

“Pre-recorded message, part of the virus,” Micro quietly adds as he watches too. 

 

“...Frank.” Russo tacks on with a knowing, evil smile. 

 

“Fuck,” Micro mutters. 

 

Frank’s watching intently at his former friend’s face going on about how he knew Frank was responsible for his warehouse. 

 

“...you didn’t think I’d just let you get away with it?” 

 

The computer Micro uses to monitor NYPD activity starts beeping. 

 

Frank whips his head to look at the monitor, “What is it?”

 

Micro leans in, reading the words on the screen before clicking a link. 

 

A wanted poster opens, taking up the whole screen. It’s your DMV picture, your name, your date of birth. Wanted, it states, for an unsolved warehouse explosion. 

 

Micro’s mouth drops open and turns to look back at Frank, “He just had this sent to every precinct and patrol car. Every cop will be looking for her.” 

 

Frank’s anger surges through his veins. Nostrils flaring, chest heaving.  

 

“Find her, NOW!” Frank growls. He grabs his jacket, “And fucking fix it!” as he leaves with a door slam. 

 

Micro immediately pings your cell phone and texts Frank your location, but mentions you’re on the move. 


	2. Chapter 2

You’re walking down a street in Queens, heading to check out the basement of a house where a suspected sweatshop is being run.  

 

You notice a cop car drive by and then slow down up ahead.  It’s weird, but not enough to concern you. 

 

A few minutes later, enough time for a car to circle a block, your path gets cut short by a cop car pulling into your path. 

 

A cop steps out, gun drawn and pointing right at you, “Police! Show me your hands!” 

 

Confused can barely explain how you feel. You slowly put your hands up, “What did I do?!” 

 

“You know what you did,” and he slowly approaches you, while calling it in on his radio.

 

“Central, 10-92 on the warehouse explosion.”

 

“10-4,” you hear a voice come back over the radio.

 

And you have no idea what explosion he thinks you’re involved in.

 

“Officer, I think you have the wrong person,” you try shakily.

 

The officer ignores you and brings your hands behind your back, cuffing you.  He seats you in the back seat of the car and grabs the radio on his shoulder to let dispatch know he’s coming in with you.  

 

Before he gets a word out, a slab of concrete smacks the ground by his feet, causing him to jump and look around.  You’re looking around too when you see a flash of black run and slide across the hood of the car.  

 

As he’s slamming the cop with the opened car door, you see it’s Frank.  He stuns the cop enough to punch him several times, knocking him out. Frank jumps into the driver’s seat and pushes his hood back, “Stay down!” he orders you. 

 

“Frank! He called it in!” you quickly inform him before he drives away.  As Frank gets back out of the car and leans over the officer, you move to sit on the backseat floor, back against the door.

 

You hear as Frank talks quick over the officer’s radio to disguise the difference in voices, “Central, 10-80 on the 10-92.  Stopped subject is not the warrant suspect.”

 

Leave it to Frank to pick up the police codes from running the police scanner 24/7. 

 

You hear sirens in the distance but you look up and keep your eyes on Frank, who jumps back into the driver’s seat and speeds off. He glances back at you quickly, “You okay?” 

 

“What the hell is going on?!” 

 

“It’s my fault. I’ll explain later.” 

 

You watch him as he drives. His strong jaw pulsing as he clenches every few seconds. You watch as a couple times he attempts to naturally hide his face and other times he’s looking out every window.  

 

After what feels like a half hour, you feel the car slow before darkness overcomes the vehicle. 

 

Frank gets out then the back door is being opened and he leans in gently grabbing your arms and pulling you up and out. 

 

He’s taken you and the police car inside some abandoned building by the river.  He texts Micro where to find you both.  Then you wait. 

 

He takes you further into the building, in a room with a window that faces the entrance.  He pulls out the keys he stole from the cop and moves behind you. You feel the cuffs loosen before being removed completely. Frank tucks them into his jacket before moving back in front of you. He reaches out, taking your wrists in his hands and rubs softly where the cuffs dug in. 

 

“Frank, what’s going on?” 

 

He runs his thumbs over your pulse points before letting you go and walking over to the edge of the window. 

 

“Remember the warehouse I blew up a few nights ago? Russo’s?” He peeks out the glass then walks back over you. 

 

He shrugs off his jacket, then his black hoodie. 

 

And you do, “Yeah,” but how the hell did they relate it to you?

 

He puts his jacket back on and hands you the hoodie. You put it on over your jacket as he finishes explaining. 

 

“Micro hit a virus trying to gain access into Russo’s system. It ended up sending a wanted poster out to every cop in the city, for the explosion...with your face and name on it,” his jaw clenching. 

 

“...What?”  The thoughts that start worrying your mind are instant.  

 

“Listen, he’s gonna fix it. And then I’m gonna fix Russo. But you need to lay low until we do, got it? You’re staying at the safe house until I know you’re in the clear.” 

 

Nodding slowly as everything sinks in, you feel tears in your eyes. 

 

Frank’s hand is on your cheek guiding you to look at him, “Hey,” his soft tone reserved for you, “I ain’t lettin’ anything happen to you,” his lips on your forehead, “I’m gonna take care of this. I promise you that.” 

 

You grip his jacket and nod against him. 

 

Frank’s ears perk up at the sound of a car. He takes your hand and checks the window, seeing a brown ‘98 Volkswagen pull into the property. 

 

“It’s Micro. Come on, we’re going home.” 

 

Frank checks the area before approaching the car, then opens the back door, motioning for you to get in which you do. Once Frank gets in and shuts the door, he moves to the floor and tells you to lay down on the seat. 

 

You lay your head on your arm that’s bent underneath and look at Frank whose eye level with you. 

 

He grabs your other hand and laces his fingers with yours, “I’m sorry for all this.”

 

You lean forward and kiss his cheek, then his lips, “It’s not your fault. It’s Russo’s.” 

 

Doesn’t matter what you say, he blames himself. 

 

Micro drives you back to the safe house. He managed to send out a cancellation on your Wanted poster. Frank still doesn’t feel safe with you out there until Russo is gone so you’re still staying at the safe house until further notice. 

 

\--

 

When you wake up the next morning and find Frank not in bed, you get up to go into the kitchen where he’s probably having a cup of coffee. 

 

As soon as you open the bedroom door, you see Micro pinned against the wall by Frank’s forearm on his throat. 

 

“Frank! Frank! It wasn’t me, come on!” he manages to choke out. 

 

“How else would he know about her, huh?! You’ve turned on me before, remember?” Frank growls. 

 

“That isn’t me anymore, you know that! I wouldn’t...I wouldn’t do that again," he gasps for air. 

 

“Frank!” You quickly walk over and grab his shoulder. 

 

He doesn’t take his eyes off Micro, “Go back into the room. I ain’t gonna kill him.” 

 

“Then let him go,” and you shove your way under his arm so you’re sandwiched between Frank’s forearm on Micro’s throat and Frank. You push on his chest and reluctantly he lets go and allows you to move him back. 

 

Micro bends over and gasps for air. 

 

“What was that?!” you quietly scold him. 

 

His hand grasps your hip as he runs his other up your side, “Russo found out about you somehow. How the hell could he have?” 

 

“Not David. You know that.” 

 

He looks down at your body before sighing, “Fuck, I know.” 

 

You kiss his cheek as you move in and hug him. He turns his head to press his lips against your ear as his hand finds your rear, “I fucked up. Put you in danger. Where’d I slip up?” 

 

Running your hand down the back of his head, “Stop. Please. Stop blaming yourself. Shit happens, we move forward, and fix it. That’s it.”

 

He kisses your temple and pulls you even closer, “Shit,” he sighs, “Someone like you ain’t supposed to be with someone like me.” 

 

“Yeah? And what kind of person should be with you?” 

 

“No one. I’m not a safe choice.” 

 

“You could say that again,” you pull down the collar of his shirt you’re wearing to show a hickey at the top of your breast. 

 

He knows you’re making light of the situation because you don’t like him talking down on himself, but hell he’d be lying if it didn’t work. 

 

With a lopsided grin, “Told ya.” 

 

You smile, kiss him, then walk into the kitchen to pour some coffee for everyone. 

 

When you step away, Frank walks over to Micro and pats his shoulder, “Sorry. I shouldn’t of…” 

 

But Micro puts a hand up, “Forget it. Consider us even,” and he puts his hand out to Frank. Frank looks at down at Micro’s hand, surprised at his gesture, but he shakes his hand. 

 

“You’ve already lost so much, Frank. I can’t blame you for trying to protect the one good thing you have now.” 

 

And he feels his heart clench at how sincere Micro’s words are. He manages to give a short nod of appreciation before pulling his hand away. 

 

Not aware of what was said, you walk over with two mugs. Micro gives his thanks as you place one next to his keyboard. He sips it immediately before typing away.  

 

Then you hand the other to Frank, before walking back into the kitchen area to get yours.  Frank follows you.

 

“Gotta talk to you,” he motions with his head towards the bedroom.

 

You give a nod as you sip your coffee, then follow him into the room where he shuts the door behind you.  

 

As you settle cross-legged on the bed, Frank leans against the wall, sipping his coffee. 

 

“I was serious when I said you’re stayin’ here until I get him.”

 

“I know. You tend not to say things you don’t mean.”

 

He gives a quick, small smirk at your knowledge of him, before licking his lips and moving to sit down on the edge of the bed, “I mean, really stayin’ here though. No leaving at all,” he eyes you for your reaction.

 

That’s when your eyebrows furrow, “You’re kidding, right? I’m on house arrest because of this?”

 

He knew you wouldn’t be happy. 

 

“It’s not ideal, I get that. But with Russo knowing about you, and obviously his affinity to use you to get to me, you anywhere outside of these walls is too dangerous right now. You gotta understand that.”

 

“I mean, I get that. But then wouldn’t I just be a sitting duck here? Who's to say he doesn’t find out about this place like he found out about me?” and you lean over to place your mug on the crate of weapons Frank keeps at the foot of the bed. 

 

He sighs, “You think I ain’t worried about that too? At least having you here, I know where you are if shit happens. Plus, Micro’s gonna be here most of the time.”

 

You catch on to that last sentence and he can tell you realize it. He sits his coffee next to yours as you watch him move and ask, “And where will you be?”

 

“Tracking Russo’s every move. Keep my eye on him until I get my chance.”

 

And you nod knowingly as you glance down at the comforter before looking back at him, “Which you don’t know how long that might take,” you state rather than ask, “So I’m a recluse for who knows how long, while also not seeing you for who knows how long,” you stand up and walk across the room as you try to let it all sink in, “Should be fun,” you sarcastically finish.

 

Frank hangs his head for a moment before lifting it and looking at you as you pace a bit.

 

“This whole fucking shit is my fault to begin with. And if I could do something else to keep you safe in the meantime, I would,” he stands up, “But you out there is too high a risk right now. He’s proven he has capabilities to make shit happen that we may not even be aware of.”

 

You rake your hands through your hair with frustration before dropping them to your sides with a quiet groan, “I know.”

 

A few seconds later, he adds, “I’m sorry.”

 

“It’s not your fault, I know you’re just trying…”

 

“Not just for this. For pulling you into this life,” he speaks lower than he has been.

 

His eyes stay on yours as you walk over to him, “You didn’t pull me into anything, you know that. Takes two people to be in a relationship, Frank. I knew what I was signing up for when we decided to be together,” he grabs the hem of your shirt and gently tugs you forward more to close the small space between you both, “And despite what’s going on right now, I’m not sorry in the least.”

 

He kisses your cheek then places more along your jaw, moving to your neck as you wrap your arms around his.  He presses his mouth against your temple as he hugs you back. 

 

His hands rub your hips when you pull back to look at him, “There’s more rules to add to this hermit situation isn’t there?”

 

Frank can’t help but give a lopsided grin, “Nothing you’re gonna like, but you probably know that too.”


	3. Chapter 3

“Only numbers programmed in are mine, Micro’s, and Page’s,” he hands you a burner phone.  He then proceeds to take you on a tour of all the places he hid weapons in the apartment, just in case. 

 

At the end of his little armory tour, you both end up back in the bedroom.

 

“Any questions?” Frank asks you as he starts getting his own gear prepared.

 

“One.”

 

He stops what he’s doing and looks at you, prepared to answer.  You walk over to him, “Just...do you think you could, um, you know check in while you’re out there? Just let me know you’re, uh, still around?”

 

You don’t want to say ‘alive’ because the thought of Frank being killed is more than you can handle. 

 

“Why are you nervous to ask me that?” He questions gently as his arm slides around your waist. 

 

You shrug, “This...us...is new for you, and I, uh, I just don’t want to be overstepping, or…”

 

“Or, come off like you’re trying to replace my wife?” he guesses.

 

It’s a shock to hear it so bluntly, no matter how right he is, but that’s Frank.

 

You nod, glancing at him as you suddenly find the sleeve of his t-shirt more interesting. 

 

He dips his head to find your gaze, whispers ‘hey’. When you look at him, his nose brushes yours and it’s like your first kiss with him all over again. He glances between your eyes and lips as he slowly finishes leaning in. 

 

Noses nuzzling for a second before he kisses you and kisses you so lovingly. Your arms instinctively go around his neck as his hands squeeze your hips, then move to your rest on your thighs.

 

When you both pull away, foreheads rest against one another for a moment. 

 

“I’m yours. You want to ask me to check in? You ask and I’m gonna do it,” he leans back causing you to do the same so you can look at one another. He tucks some hair behind your ear, then brings his hand to your cheek, “I never see it as you trying to replace her. That’s not the type of person you are.”

 

“Okay,” you agree with some relief, relief that he knows that’s never what you’re trying to do, “I just, I care about you so much,” and you can’t help but tear up when you say that. Things are getting messy and you won’t know anything about where he’ll be.

 

Frank’s brows knit together at your words, but you know he’s not confused. It’s just him processing having someone give a shit about him after who he’s become. 

 

He kisses you again, but it’s different this time. His hands grasp your face and it’s like you can feel all his emotions in it. Frank gently backs you up against the wall and now you’re grabbing his hips as you feel tears come to your eyes. 

 

He feels your tears as they roll down onto his thumbs at your cheekbones. And he just keeps kissing you because he needs you to know just how much you mean to him. From the tears, it’s obvious you do. There’s no question. He hasn’t had anyone know him like this since Maria.

 

As soon as he pulls away, his eyes find your teary ones and you cover your lips with your fingers. But just as quick you’re then touching his jaw. 

 

“Everything’s gonna be fine. You hear me? You’re gonna be safe and I’m coming back to you,” his voice is so soft yet so confident.

 

You want anything in the world to believe that, but no one can guarantee that, not even Frank.

 

“Are you saying that more for me or for you?” you ask softly as a few more tears roll down your face. 

 

As he pulls you into his arms, hugging you close, you just barely hear him shush you quietly before his mouth his pressed to your hair as his hand stays on the back of your head. 

 

After a couple of minutes, you pull away, no words exchanged as you let your hand slide down his chest as you walk away. He turns his head and watches as you undress, switching your jeans and blouse for just a tank top. You get into bed and roll onto your side, back facing him.

 

He knows you’re not mad at him, just scared. Frank walks back to his gear and continues getting together everything he’s going to need to complete this mission.  He glances at you every few minutes, the curves of your body under the sheets as you stay in the one position.  It takes him about an hour before he’s stripping down to his underwear and getting into bed next to you.

 

Under the assumption you’re asleep, he slowly wraps an arm around you, wanting to make himself flush against you, but he’s surprised to feel you move your arm over his and bring his hand to your lips as you kiss it before holding it against your chest.

 

He props himself up on his elbow before his hand you’re holding moves from your grasp to lay against your cheek. As his hand turns your face, you roll back towards him, until you’re flat on your back, so you can look up at him. 

 

Frank leans over you as your arms circle his torso, one hand sliding into the top of his underwear a bit. As his thumb strokes your cheek, he leans down and presses a few soft kisses along the other side of your face.  Lightly, your drag your fingernails up and down his spine, as you close your eyes at his soft lips pressing against your skin.

 

When his lips move to yours, a passionate, slow kiss following, his hand moves to glide down your side before holding your thigh.  Words don’t interrupt this intimate time. No one questions the other when each of you take separate moments to stare; to fully memorize every line, every dimple, every shape of the face of a lover, just in case fate decides to be brutal and make this the last night together. 

 

As you look up at Frank, his eyes coasting over your own, you run a fingertip along the edge of his lips, a stroke of a thumb along his cheekbone, even a touch of his eyebrow. The tears return and now you’re turning your head to the side as you bring a hand to cover your mouth, stifling the small noises of worry. 

 

Frank presses his nose sweetly against your cheek and his hand covers your own as he tries to hold your face in some way. You don’t want to look at him while feeling like this, sad and almost heartbroken.  You move your hand from your mouth and grip his wrist as his hand now finds your cheek easier.  Warm tears against his palm as he turns your face back to look at him, you keeping your eyes closed, not ready to face anything. 

 

It’s his lips brushing over your cheeks, ghosting along the wet lashes of your eyes, that get you to open them, once again looking up at the man you fell in love with. 

 

He presses a kiss to your lips, wiping your tears from one cheek as you wipe the ones from the other.  

 

In this moment, you make the decision. Sliding your hands along his stubble to grasp his face, he lets you lead him down to your face. Wet trails still fall from your eyes, only slower than before, and you feel his thumb wiping every single one.  As you just touch your lips to his, prepared to kiss him for the five hundredth time, he feels them move not in a kiss, but in a confession.

 

Your lips tickle his as his ears pick up the whispered words of ‘I love you’. 

 

Heart pounding, you don’t let him go nor do you move, almost expecting him to pull away first. But to your surprise, he doesn’t.

 

Staying with faces close, lips touching, you feel his warm breath against your mouth. Then almost as fast as you finished saying those words, Frank’s lips fit to yours as he kisses you with such intensity it’s like he’s breathing life back into you. 

 

He doesn’t say it back but when he places a couple kisses over your heart and his stare reveals a gloss to his eyes, it’s all you need to understand that the love in this relationship isn’t one sided. 


	4. Chapter 4

Day four of house arrest and you’re ready to pull your hair out. New York City is right outside and you’re stuck to hide behind brick for an undetermined amount of time. 

 

Micro can only be so fun and you only have so much you can even do. No TV, no computer, no smart phone.  The only things you have are a few books, puzzles, and Frank even had Micro pick up one of those coloring books for adults for you in his attempt to keep you occupied while away.

 

No lights after sundown except for this special flashlight he left you that uses a red bulb; doesn’t draw as much attention as a white light.  So, night time is even worse in terms of things you can do. You’ve been going to bed early because of it, Micro always sleeping over on the couch.

 

The one good thing is Frank kept his word. He either texts or calls at least once a day. The calls aren’t long but you will take what you can get.

 

Tonight, though, you made the executive decision to relieve Micro of his babysitting duties. His wife called him, their daughter was sick and trying to take care of her along with a toddler was proving difficult. There was hesitation on his part, no doubt the looming idea of what Frank would do to him, but you told him not to worry and eventually he agreed.

 

It’s dark out and you’ve just settled into bed when the burner phone buzzes with a text. Smiling, knowing its Frank, you grab it.

 

**_9:30pm: Ready to break a window yet to escape?_ **

 

And you can’t help but laugh because you can just picture the smirk on his face as he typed that.

 

_9:31pm: That’s putting it mildly._

**_9:34pm: I bet. Micro twitching in a corner from your complaining?_ **

 

Smirking, you roll your eyes. Just as well as you know him, you sometimes forget he knows you just as well.

 

_9:36pm: No. Says he’s used to your constant bullshit that I’m a nice relief._

 

Frank laughs out loud at that. Can just picture your face with the rise to your brow as you shoot him back.

 

**_9:39pm: He’s a kiss ass. What are you up to? All good?_ **

_9:42pm: Trying to sleep. Hard to do without this guy I usually sleep with._

**_9:42pm: Yeah? He know about me?_ **

 

He knows he got a laugh out of you with that.

 

_9:45pm: Knows you’re a dummy for leaving me all alone in a bed._

  ** _9:47pm: That makes two of us. Miss you._**

  _9:48pm: Miss you too._

  ** _9:50pm: Get some sleep. Talk tomorrow._**

  _9:51pm: Be careful._

 

The conversation leaves a smile on your face, happy to know he’s still around and seems to be okay.

 

An hour later and you’re still awake, tossing and turning. It’s amazing how quickly your body gets used to having another one next to it to the point of being unable to settle down. 

 

It’s pitch black, as instructed, and so quiet despite the normal background city noise that no longer registers to your ears.

 

So, the sound of the front door lock being jimmied was heard instantly.

 

Slowly you sit up in bed and keep an ear out as your feet quietly touch the floor.  The bedroom door is locked but you can hear as the front door is finally opened and the lightest sound of footsteps is heard. 

 

All you can hope is that it’s some run of the mill robber who just hit the motherload with all the computer equipment, but you also know those chances are slim.

 

You grab the burner phone and reach under the bed where Frank stashed one of the guns for you.  Looking around, you head into the bathroom and step into the tub, laying down. 

 

_11:15pm: Someone's here._

 

Amazing how two words can cause his heart to feel like he just ran an obstacle course.

 

As he’s packing up the few items he has out, he’s texting back as fast as he can.

 

**_11:19pm: On my way. Micro good?_ **

  _11:20pm: Sent him home. Kid sick._

 

He doesn’t have time to get mad about that. You’re all he cares about right now.

 

You can’t really hear movement so you know whoever it is knows what they’re doing which means it must be Russo’s men.

 

Frank feels helpless a bit. Tell you to leave and risk more of them outside waiting to take you. Tell you to hide and it’s just a 50/50 chance. 

 

**_11:23pm: Gun under bed. Tub._ **

  _11:23pm: Already done._

 

Then he’s speeding even faster when he reads your next one. 

 

_11:31pm: They’re in here_

 

The bedroom door was opened and you find yourself now thankful for Frank’s no lights rule. Though you can’t see them, they also can’t see you. That is until you see a red light sweep across the wall through the shower curtain and you realize they’re just as prepared as Frank is.

 

It feels like they might be able to find you from your heartbeat alone because it’s about the only thing you can hear and feel. With no clue how far away Frank is you have no idea how long you have to wait for his help.

 

It’s the quick squeak of a rubber sole on the tile that alerts you someone is now in the bathroom. As quickly and quietly as you can, you ready the gun to point up and you consciously try to slow your breathing. 

 

Even when the shower curtain is pulled back you remain still, in the hopes the darkness is still providing cover, but you see the red light emanating from between the eyes of the stranger cloaked in black. 

 

“Look what we have here,” was the last sinister words the man spoke before you fired two rounds into his chest dropping him right over the tub. The fact you just killed a man doesn’t even have time to register as survival mode kicks in. 

 

Two more converge into the bathroom, alerted by the shots, as you’re trying to free yourself from underneath the dead body. You don’t stand a chance as they have the advantage of sight. Rough hands grab your arms and yank you out of the tub, forcing you to lose both the phone and the gun. 

 

A punch to your face makes you taste blood, then you’re hastily being dragged, fighting against them as best you can, through the bedroom and into the giant living room where five more are messing around with the computers. 

 

“We got her. Boss will be happy with this surprise,“ one boasts.

 

The barrel of a gun is shoved against your cheek to make you stop resisting. Before you can even decide on whether to keep fighting, one of the windows gets busted and the sounds of punches are heard.

 

First thought is Frank until you realize you’d be hearing more gunshots, than punches. From the slivers of streetlights, you can make out two small horns as Daredevil fights against the men who seem to just keep coming. 

 

With the distraction, you quickly crawl to the kitchen island and grab the gun taped underneath.  As Daredevil throws punches, you start unloading the weapon on the intruders. You need more practice with Frank to perfect your aim, but you’re at least providing some sort of help even if you’re not killing them.

 

Gunshots in the hall outside let you know Frank’s here. He emerges into the apartment amid a fistfight.

 

“Red!” Frank yells, “Take her and go!”

 

All you want is to scream ‘No!’ To just stay and have the three of you fight to better the chances. 

 

Daredevil keeps fighting until Frank roars “GO!” one more time. Then you’re being grabbed by Matt and pulled towards the broken window just as Frank glances at you before you’re pulled onto the fire escape. 

 

Matt brings you back to his apartment and gives you socks for your bare feet and a blanket since all you have on is a tank top and leggings. 

 

With your adrenaline starting to lower, the pain in your cheek from being punched is starting to make itself known. Matt brings you a bag of ice which you take with gratitude, but your level of worry for Frank is high.

 

“You need to go back for him,” you say calmer than you expected.

 

He tilts his head a bit as his eyes look past your ear, a polite grin that shows for two seconds, “I am,” then he’s pulling his mask back on and running up the stairs to the door to the roof.

 

Now all you can do is wait as you hold the ice to your face. 


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> warnings: some violence described

Frank takes the remainder of the men out before keeping one alive. He binds his wrists and ankles.

 

A few of the intruders had been messing with Micro’s computers so he’s going to need Micro to figure out what they were after. 

 

He grabs the collar of his hostage and drags him behind as he stalks into the bedroom, then into the bathroom.  The body half in the tub makes him stop, that’s where you had been hiding.  

 

Walking over, he lets go of the hostage to pick up the deadweight of the fallen man, spots the bullet holes in his chest then drops him on the floor to get him out of the way. There lays the gun and the burner phone you had. He picks up both, shoving the phone in a pocket before holstering the gun somewhere on his body he has room.

 

Grabbing the hostage, he drops him hard into the tub, then pulls out a tactical folding knife and takes a knee.  With no words, he grabs the man’s wrists and cuts his pinky off.  The scream that leaves his lungs is quickly silenced as Frank punches him numerous times. 

 

“Where’s Russo live?”

 

“F-fuck you!”

 

Frank just gives a sarcastic huff of a laugh before slicing halfway through the man’s thumb, then quickly slicing behind the man’s knee, severing tendons. Then once again punching him to quiet his screams.

 

A little slower this time, he asks again, “Where’s Russo live?”

 

Through groans and gritted teeth, “You won’t get him, he’s protected 24/7.”

 

“Give me the fucking address,” Frank plunges the knife into the man’s groin and twisting the blade, losing any shred of patience he has left.

 

Screaming in pain, the man manages to spit out, “5642 Terrace Lane,” blood is starting to pool in the tub, “Staten Island”.

 

Frank jams the knife into the screaming man’s throat before standing up.  All he hears are bloody sputters, as the man tries to say something, before he fires a bullet into the man’s temple killing him instantly. 

 

“Frank!” Matt says from the doorway.

 

Calmly, he holsters the weapon, “Save it. Where is she?”

 

“My place,” and he moves aside as Frank almost pushes past him to get into the bedroom. 

 

“What is this about?” 

 

Frank grabs a military-grade canvas bag and starts opening drawers, “Nothing I can’t handle. Got the info I needed,” he starts shoving a pair of your jeans, a few shirts, and a bra into the bag then moves to the bed where he grabs a pair of your shoes sitting underneath and shoves them in the bag too.

 

“Then why need me to check on this place every night if you have a handle on it?”

 

Frank eyes him then shoves the bag against Matt’s chest, “Because you owe me a favor, that’s why.”

 

“This because of you or because of her? What was she even doing here, Frank?”

 

Matt can hear Frank’s blood coated hand as he squeezes his hand in and out of a fist, “Bring that to her. I gotta take care of shit here still.”

 

With no answers being forthcoming, he just sighs in defeat as he shakes his head, “How long?”

 

Frank questions him, “You need me home by curfew, Red?”

 

“Just figured the woman you’re protecting may want to know when she can see you again. Told me to come back for you, I’d like to be able to give her something.”

 

Hearing that, Frank drops the attitude. His voice is softer as he says, “Couple of hours.”

 

~~~

 

Matt passes the information along to you, along with the bag of clothes Frank packed.

 

“You can take my room if you’d like. It’s been a long night.”

 

“I appreciate that, but I’m not going to sleep until I know he’s okay.”

 

Matt gives you an understanding nod, “Can I ask who Russo is?”

 

“With all due respect, if Frank hasn’t already told you, then he must have a reason. So I’m going to respect whatever that might be.”

 

He just gives you what you feel is a condescending grin. 

 

“You’re pretty close with Frank. He always involve you in his…doings?” 

 

Crossing your arms against your chest, you evade his question, “Do you have a bathroom I can change in?”

 

Another one of his annoying grins, “Yeah, in the bedroom.”

 

You nod and mumble a quick thanks.

 

~~~

 

Frank calls Micro and has him come over immediately to find out what he can with the computers before any police arrive.  

 

After apologizing profusely for not being there, and Frank reassuring him it’s fine, Micro is able to tell that they didn’t have enough time to access anything. Thanks in big part to the high security firewalls that Micro installed. 

 

Always backing up everything to a remote hard drive, Micro can destroy the computer setup without losing anything.  Once finished, Frank instructs him to meet him over at the Brooklyn safe house. 

 

Frank leaves and makes his way to Matt’s apartment.  Two quick pounds on the door and he’s face to face with Matt who immediately steps aside. You’re standing at the end of the small hall by the door so Frank makes it to you in two strides before walking into your open arms and hugging you as he backs you up a few steps.

 

“I killed one of them,” you shakily confess to him in a low whisper as you feel his hand in your hair. 

 

Frank closes his eyes at your statement. He forgets that killing isn’t normal for everyday people, hard to remember that when you’re doing it every night. He realizes now how this is going to stay with you for a while. 

 

“You did everything right. You kept yourself alive.”

 

You just nod against his shoulder before stepping back and finally looking at him. You take his face in your hands and press your forehead to his.  

 

“Your cheek,” he says somewhat calmly, but you hear the slight growl in his tone.

 

“I’m okay.”

 

He pulls back to look at you, hand gently running over the bruise. 

 

“We’re going to another safe house.”

 

“This isn’t over yet?” 

 

Frank shakes his head, “Soon.”

 

A small nod from you before he’s taking your hand and you’re grabbing the bag of clothes. 

 

Matt’s stayed by the door, figuring correctly you two wouldn’t be staying.

 

“Listen, Red, as much as we butt heads, I, uh, gotta really thank you for keepin’ your word. For being there tonight.”

 

“Of course,” Matt nods. 

 

“Yes, thank you. A lot,” you add receiving another short nod and a ‘you’re welcome’. 

 

With that, you two leave and head downstairs to Frank’s truck.  The drive to Brooklyn, you see how focused he is. Diligently surveying the surroundings, frequently checking every mirror, looking for any sign of trouble. 

 

All you can do is sit quietly in the passenger seat and look out at the dark streets, streetlights sweeping past like shooting stars.  And suddenly, your heart rate speeds up. In a second you’re back in the bathtub looking up at this dark figure who reaches for you, and just as you fire the gun, Frank’s hand touches your shoulder. 

 

He watches as you jump and turn to look at him, fear in your eyes for a millisecond before softening.  

 

“Hey, you okay?” he asks as he rubs your back. All you do is nod as you realize the truck is now parked in a dark alley. 

 

Frank doesn’t believe you in the least but he knows now isn’t the time to push it. He simply nods and tells you, “We’re here.” 


	6. Chapter 6

He leads you inside the seemingly abandoned building and leads you to the fourth floor of the six floor walkup.  As soon as you walk inside the loft type apartment, Micro stands from the table in the corner, two laptops out in front of him. He immediately starts apologizing to you, for not being there. But you reassure him that it had been your decision; there’s no bad blood. 

 

As soon as he lets that sink in, he starts rambling about some address in Staten Island. 

 

It’s too much. It’s all just too much. You’ve been cooped up for four days, stressed beyond any normal level, almost kidnapped, and you murdered someone. Your nerves are shot, you’re exhausted, and hearing Micro and Frank talking shop right away is eating right through you. 

 

Frank looks at you when he feels your hand on his bicep, stopping his talk to see what you need. 

 

“I need fresh air or...something. Can I just head to the roof for a bit?”

 

He sees it. Every single emotion he can read in your face. The way the corners of your mouth are in a slight frown from stress, the way you blink just a tad slower than normal from exhaustion, the way you’re fiddling with the hem of your shirt from anxiousness.  

 

Frank smooths his hand over your head before nodding, “Yeah, yeah go ahead,” he answers softly.  

 

He’s a bit taken aback at how quick you walk away after getting your answer. No lingering touch, no quick kiss, none of those small moments of love that he admits he’s grown accustomed to again. Instead he simply watches as you walk out without a single glance back, so caught up in thought that Micro needs to say his name to bring him back.

 

You take your time climbing the two floors to the roof access door. Anything to get a break from this nightmare. Once on the darkened roof, you find a spot against the wall, in sight of the door just in case, and sit down drawing your knees to your chest.

 

Wrapping your arms around your legs, you rest your chin on your knees and replay the moment you killed a human being.  Deep down, you know Frank is right. You did what you had to do to survive. But still. It was you who shot a man to death.   

 

It’s also about Frank. This is who he is, a leader who’s protecting his people. And you know how lucky you are to have him on your side. However, it’s been four long days and a few long hours that you’ve gone without seeing him. All you want is to have him just comfort you, to just hold you. You don’t know how to navigate these feelings alone.

 

And just like that, you start crying. Every frustration and every nerve culminating into a fresh set of tears as your emotions have nowhere left to go but out. You cover your face with your hands and press against your knees as your shoulders shake with each sob.  

 

A few minutes of crying and you feel a bit better. You don’t bother wiping your face as you rest your arms on top of your knees and your chin on your arms. It’s several minutes later when you hear the door open and out steps Frank, spotting you right away.

 

You don’t move, just watching as he walks over to you. He takes a seat next to you against the wall, his thigh pressed against you. And after looking up at the star-filled sky, he turns his head to look at you. 

 

You just turn your face so your cheek is laying against your arms as you meet his stare.

 

“Probably tired of me crying, huh?” you try to joke.

 

Frank’s hand tenderly lays on the side of your face, his thumb moving to clear some wetness from your cheeks. He shakes his head and sweetly says, “Nothing about you could ever make me tired of you.”

 

He puts a hand on your shin and as you move so does he. His arms wrap around you as you move between his legs, until you’re leaning back against his chest and his arms secure you to his body.

 

Frank kisses your hair, then your shoulder, “Wanna talk about it?” 

 

“What’s there to say? I shot and killed someone. I’m a murderer,” and he feels your body pulse as you take in a shaky breath with that last statement. 

 

“It was self-defense. You’re makin’ it sound cut and dry and it’s not.”

 

You twist your body a bit so you can look at him, “Was it though?” you challenge him, “He didn’t have his gun pointed at me, didn’t outright threaten me, just said...said ‘Look what we have here.’”

 

Frank’s body stiffens at that and you feel it. He knows that was a veiled threat and honestly, so do you. And if this was anyone else, you’d be telling them the same thing Frank is telling you. But it’s not anyone else, it’s you. You took a life. 

 

He hugs you closer, “Answer me something,” and he touches your bruised cheek softly, “Were you in fear for your life?” he asks as his jaw clenches at the thought.

 

And you just let his question sink in for a minute as you glance down at his arm. You remember how hard your heart was beating, how those men purposefully snuck into the apartment to cause trouble, and how it was Frank who flashed through your mind when you decided to protect yourself. 

 

You lift your head and look at him, “Yes.”

 

A confirming nod, “So what was wrong about what you did? And not the legal bullshit. I’m talkin’ in your heart, knowing how you felt and what they were lookin’ to do...what was wrong with what you did?”

 

This time the tears that well up in your eyes aren’t from guilt or fear, they’re from acceptance. 

 

“Nothing,” you finally realize.

 

You turn in his arms and hug him, so thankful for this man. Frank closes his eyes and hugs you back, massaging the back of your neck. 

 

His face presses into your neck and leaves behind a kiss, before his nose trails up the side of your face to kiss it. 

 

“You know the kind of person you are and I know the kind of person you are. You weren’t lookin’ to do that. You did it to survive and there ain’t nothin’ wrong with that. Not ever. Remember that, okay?” His words sincere and gentle.

 

You nod and pull back to look at him, your hands on his shoulders, “Okay.”

 

Frank mumbles ‘C’mere’ as he leans forward, hand on your jaw, and kisses you for the first time in four and a half days. 

 

It’s slow and sweet. His thumb strokes your cheek as you blindly, yet tenderly grasp his face. 

 

He’s slow to pull away and even when he does, your faces stay so close that when he licks his bottom lip, you feel the quick brush of his tongue. 

 

The grit of his stubble against your palms is both tickling and rough. You brush your thumbs across the corners of his mouth, then brush your lips up, over his, as you move to kiss his cupid’s bow then his nose. 

 

His hands move to your hips, then slide up your back until he’s at your shoulder blades, pulling you even closer.

 

“Remember what you said to me that last night together?” he whispers.

 

You’d never forget.

 

“Always,” and you press a kiss between his eyes before pulling back to look at him, hands moving to his chest.

 

“You know that I...I feel the same way, right? Just sayin’ it…” and he’s nervous in a sense, but he has no reason to be.

 

“Oh, Frank,” you cut him off with a kiss, “I know you do,” you give him a soft smile, “Please don’t worry about that. I understand. There’s no rush.”

 

But there is, he thinks. This life could rip either of you away in seconds. But he hasn’t said those words to anyone except the woman he vowed to spend the rest of his life with. It’s just too hard to say it again right now. 

 

He kisses you where you murmur against his lips, “As long as it’s okay for me to say it to you more than that one time,” and you grin into the kiss.

 

“Never hear me complain,” he mumbles back now with his own grin against yours.

 

“Good,” you pull away. 

 

Frank squeezes your hip and kisses your jaw, “There’s a diner around the corner.  How about we get some food?”

 

“And coffee.”

 

“My girl,” he murmurs in approval at your words, as he kisses your cheek. 


	7. Chapter 7

Micro sits across the booth from you and Frank as he types away at a small laptop he brought.  

 

“So, I hacked into a government satellite and honed in on that Staten Island address,” Micro explains as he types something then spins the laptop around to show you both.

 

“What exactly am I lookin’ at?” Frank asks.

 

As you look, you make out the aerial view of a mansion sized residence with black vehicles lined up on the street out front and the driveway. 

 

“Is this live?” you look to Micro.

 

Frank glances at you, then at him.

 

“No. This is just one of the images the satellite stores. I need a bit more time to get into the live channel. But that’s not the problem.”

 

“What is?” Frank raises a brow.

 

Before he can continue, the waitress comes and delivers your food. Three coffees, a chicken salad sandwich for David, and a grilled cheese sandwich for you and Frank to share. 

 

Frank grabs two creamers from the small bowl the waitress placed on the table and hands them to you. You grab three packets of sugar and hand them to David. 

 

As Frank picks up one half of the grilled cheese and takes a bite, Micro mixes the sugar into his coffee as he points back to the screen. 

 

“These dark lines here,” he points to lines that surround the property, “are reinforced steel, 8-foot high fences.”

 

With a mouth full of chicken salad, he continues by zooming in on the picture, “Not usually a big deal for you, I know, but these dots,” he points to several behind the fences, “Armed guards. There’s too many constantly on watch for you to get past this time. The asshole wasn’t lying, he’s protected 24/7.”

 

“So I hit him while they’re in the convoy,” Frank sips his coffee calmly, not at all vexed by the news.

 

“If they’re all black SUVs, how do you know which one he’s in?” you ask, curious, before you bite into the warm sandwich that tastes so sinfully good.

 

Micro shoots a finger gun your way, “Bingo. You saw from your intel, Frank, they place him in different cars each time and switch positions of the cars while driving like some human shell game.”

 

“He ain’t untouchable, no one is,” and the low, gritty way he says it sends a pleasant shiver down your body.

 

“I don’t know man. So far it seems like he might actually be.” 

 

“Bullshit,” Frank finishes his coffee.

 

And Micro spins the computer back facing him, finishes his one half of his sandwich before typing away again.

 

Silently, you take a few bites of your half, just thinking over everything Micro said.

 

Frank signals for the waitress who returns and pours everyone more coffee.  You feel Frank’s arm move to around your shoulders then he kisses your temple, before moving his arm to rub your back a few times.

 

You lean into his side and his arm snakes around your waist. 

 

“He’s gotta be alone at some point,” Frank speaks up towards Micro, “Takin’ a shit, sleepin’...”

 

And you chime in when a thought hits you, “When he’s with a woman.” 

 

Both look at you and your lack of eye contact with Frank tips him off immediately. He withdraws his arm to turn his body to face you more, “Whatever it is you’re thinkin’, don’t. It ain’t happenin’.”

 

“Frank,” you start.

 

“No. There’s no way you’re goin’ anywhere near him,” he shakes his head in frustration, “After what happened, and you wanna do something as crazy as that? No.”

 

Micro peers over the laptop, “I mean...it’s not a horrible idea.”

 

Frank shoots him an intense glare while you look at him with gratitude.

 

Micro holds his hands up and sits up more, “I mean, throw a disguise of some sort on her, he probably won’t even realize.”

 

“Exactly. Right now, he knows you’re hiding me, the last thing he would expect is for me to come to him.”

 

Frank looks away with a sarcastic laugh, “You two hear yourselves? You hearin’ how batshit this is?” his sarcasm gone, replaced by annoyance.

 

“I’m not talking about sleeping with him. Just getting to close enough to either get you in or to do...whatever you might need me to do.”

 

Frank looks at you and gives a quick shake of his head, “And what’s to say he doesn’t force himself on you? Or hurt you before I can do anything? Either of you think of that?” he looks between you and Micro.

 

Frank looks at you again, his voice softer, “I know you want this to be over, but that isn’t the way.  Any plan where you’re alone with him is not one I’m okay with.”

 

When you cup his cheek, he leans into your touch slightly, eyes never breaking from yours. 

 

“But what if it’s the only plan that works?” 

 

“I’ll make sure it’s not,” he says low as he leans in and kisses you. 

 

“Found something out that may help,” Micro shares from behind his laptop. Frank hugs you to his body and kisses your head as you wrap an arm across his torso.

 

Micro peers over the screen to find you both waiting on him.

 

“Seems he’s holding a charity gala at the New York Public Library in two weeks. I could add two aliases to their invite list?”

 

Frank quirks a brow, “Two?”

 

Micro looks at you then at Frank, “You’ll need a date.”

 

~~~

 

After the diner, you and Frank walk back to the safehouse while Micro goes home for the night.

 

“I don’t mind going,” you say over your shoulder so Frank, who’s climbing the stairs right behind you, can hear you.

 

“Let me think about it,” he answers as you reach the right floor and enter the apartment.

 

He takes his hat off and tosses it on the table, then takes off his jacket. You grab his hand to get his attention and he moves to hold your hand properly.

 

“You think I can’t do it?” 

 

Frank lets your hand go to pull you into him, “No, I know you can do it.”

 

You run your hand through his hat hair as he kisses next to your nose. Then he continues, “I know you said you knew what you were signin’ up for with me, but that doesn’t make it okay for me to have you in the middle of this. You want to help, and I appreciate that, but there’s risks involved that you shouldn’t be taking because of me.”

 

“Frank, I need you to understand something,” and you kiss him quick before pulling back to speak.

 

“What would you do to keep me safe?” you start off asking him.

 

And he looks at you for a beat before answering, “Give my life.”

 

Again, you kiss him, slower this time. Your arms move around his neck and his around your waist. 

 

You pull away slowly and speak softer, “As much as I know you don’t want it to be, I would absolutely do the same thing to keep you safe.”

 

Frank’s hold on you tightens a bit, his voice just above a whisper, “Your life is worth a hell of a lot more than mine.”

 

“To me, they’re worth the same. Frank, I love you, and people risk everything to protect those they love. You know that. So, give me every risk that comes my way because I would do anything for you.”

 

He smooths a hand over your head, “You know I think you’re crazy for feeling that way about me,” he smirks.

 

And you give a small laugh at his unsurprising response, “I know.”

 

Then his face softens and his voice smooth, the way he always sounds with you in these loving moments.

 

“But that doesn’t mean that it don’t mean somethin’,” and you smile at his words, “I’m nowhere near the same man I was before, but the closest I’ve ever felt to it has been with you. And knowing how you feel about me as the man I’ve become...” he scoffs at himself, “...I’m such fuckin’ shit now, so for you to see somethin’ worth lovin’? Then I know I’m still him somewhere, way deep down, but still...maybe I’m not as fuckin’ lost as I feel sometimes. And that’s all you, sweetheart. I owe that to you.”

 

He caresses your face so lovingly, and you stop him by placing a hand over his, “You’re still you, Frank. You’re just buried under a ton of shit that no person should ever have to deal with.”

 

“The only way I believe that is when I see the way you look at me,” and that makes you blush, “Because the last person who looked at me like that was Maria.”


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Implied Smut? Mild Smut? One of them lol

It was later that same night after the diner that you and Frank spoke about Russo’s gala and how it may be the opportunity you’ve all been waiting for. And late into the night, the two of you bounced ideas off each other until a plan was born. 

 

The next two weeks was a mix of you moving between safe houses, on Frank’s orders, and him and Micro getting all the supplies needed. On the surface, the plan was simple enough, but to make sure the execution from beginning to end went seamlessly, there was a lot of work to do. 

 

You couldn’t do much in helping with preparation except for a couple minor tasks. However, you would be accompanying Frank as his date, and you play a strategic part in the plan.

 

It’s the day of the gala and you and Frank are getting ready in one of the safe houses. Micro will be driving you both there.

 

Part of the supplies needed were fake glasses with a camera lens and fake facial hair for Frank. For you, colored contact lenses to make your eyes a bit darker. A wig was decided against for you, too risky having it come off, so instead you’ll be pinning your hair underneath in a faux bob. 

 

You’re both in the bathroom, sharing the mirror, as you get ready. Frank’s in his suit pants and shoes, shaving. To apply the facial hair securely, he’s got to be as clean shaven as possible. 

 

Next to him, you’re standing in your matching bra and panties, curling your hair a bit before pinning sections underneath. You have a couple bobby pins in your mouth as you start curling a section underneath then taking a pin and securing it. 

 

Frank shaves a section under his chin as he glances at you with a smirk, “You women are incredible,” and you look at him as you curl a section of hair, “The way you get ready like it’s nothing.”

 

“Nothing? I’ve been at this for a half hour already.”

 

He chuckles, “I mean, you do it so easily. Whenever we’d go out, Maria would…” and he gets quiet, tapping the razor at the edge of the sink, “Forget it,” he gives a sad grin.

 

You stop what you’re doing and touch his arm with a soft smile, “She’d what?”

 

He glances between you and the sink for a second before his smile shows up, “She’d do those curlers in her hair, ya know. But she’d be wrangling the kids into their pj’s for the babysitter in between putting them in and taking them out while I’m rushing in the shower. It was just, amazing to watch how effortless she did it.”

 

“She ever burn herself with those?” you ask with a smile, “I’ve tried those and they are tough to master.”

 

Frank chuckles, “Oh yeah. I’d hear a curse down the hall as she’s coming back from one of the kids’ rooms and you knew she tried to take one out too early.”

 

You laugh and continue with your hair as Frank continues, “But watching you, you too. You got a whole system worked out over there, looks like it’s nothing.”

 

“If only,” you joke.

 

Frank smiles and finishes shaving then grabs his tank top sitting on top of the toilet seat cover, pulling it on and tucking it into his pants. You finish up with your hair and unplug the curling iron, putting the extra bobby pins away.

 

It doesn’t even register what Frank is doing as you’re busy clearing the sink, so when he takes your hand you’re caught off guard. He steps into you, and kisses you deeply.  Slowly you wrap an arm around his shoulders as you touch his freshly shaved jaw. He leaves you breathless and a bit pleasantly dazed. 

 

Frank looks at you with an adoring smile and runs his hands down your sides, “I love you.”

 

You have no idea what made him finally able to say it. It’s not like it was a romantic moment, the two of you half dressed, getting ready for a night of crime. But if Frank was saying it, you knew whatever the reason, it was a damn good one.

 

The smile that appears on your face makes him wish he had said it sooner. You quickly wipe at a couple tears before they fall and you kiss him. And even though he already knows, you’re just happy that you can reply with this now, “I love you, too.”

 

Frank’s smile grows and he kisses you good. It’s a huge moment, but one you both know you can’t harp on right now.  As the kiss ends, you kiss him one more time as he scoops you up and carries you into the bedroom, setting you on your feet by the dresser.

 

He kisses your shoulder and takes a seat on the edge of the bed as you instruct him to do so you can apply the facial hair for him.

 

You read the instructions then sit on his lap with the materials needed.  First you apply the moustache section using the adhesive it came with. Instantly you start laughing at the sight. Frank can only laugh at you laughing, “That bad?” 

 

“Umm, just different,” you shrug, a smile still on your face. You run a finger over it, “Feels so real,” then you kiss him.

 

“Testing it out?” he guesses with a grin.

 

“Mm,” you hum, “more than I’m used to but not horrible,” you smirk.

 

Next you apply the short beard, which takes more concentration. More laughing ensues followed by another test run.  Once done, you head back into the bathroom, and put in the colored contacts.  Even with the slight differences, it’s so weird to see what a change they make. 

 

Frank walks in buttoning his dress shirt when you turn to look at him, “How weird is this?” you point to your eyes.

 

“Woah,” he smirks and steps closer, abandoning his buttoning, “Doesn’t look bad, just miss your real ones,” he kisses your forehead with a grin.

 

You pat his chest then turn back to the mirror to start on your makeup.  Frank finishes buttoning his shirt then tucks it into his pants. 

 

“One more thing Micro gave me for us,” Frank mentions then walks out of the room, coming back a couple minutes later. In his hand are two small, adhesive patches.

 

“Trackers, just in case,” he walks over to you and puts one on the sink, then peels the backing off another. 

 

“Where do they go?” 

 

“Some place no one will find them,” and gets on one knee as you turn to face him. Goosebumps spread over your body as he slowly pulls the edge of your panties down and sticks it low on your stomach. 

 

When he stands up, the blush to your cheeks makes him grin.  Then he untucks his shirt and sticks the other in a similar spot on his own body, before tucking his shirt back in. 

 

You finish with the makeup, opting for a smoky eye over bright lips to have more of a disguise in a sense. As Frank starts on his tie while looking in the mirror, you walk out to go put your dress on.

 

Just as Frank straightens the knot, you walk back into the bathroom.

 

A black, off the shoulder dress hugs your body as your right leg peeks out thanks to an almost thigh-high slit. Black strappy heels add a couple inches to your height.  You just finish pulling the side zipper up when you look up and find Frank staring.

 

“Like it, huh?” you smirk as you walk closer. 

 

Frank’s hands find your hips, “You look incredible,” he breathes.

 

“Thank you,” you blush as you look down at the dress, you then watch as Frank’s hand moves to your bare thigh and you smile as you look at him.

 

“This for me?” he teases, his hand sliding in to caress your inner thigh.

 

The breath catches in your throat momentarily, “Only you.”

 

You grip his shoulder as you feel his fingers brush over the fabric of your panties between your thighs.

 

“Frank,” you all but gasp. He’s caressing your inner thigh again, a grin on his face as he kisses you.

 

“You know how rude that is?” you playfully scold him for teasing you like that. 

 

Then his mouth is next to your ear, that new facial hair scraping so nice as he whispers huskily, “Who said I was finished?” 

 

Before you can react, his hand is up between your legs again, panties being pushed aside. 

 

His shoulder is your support, along with the wall he backed you up against, as you dig your nails into it. As you close your eyes and go to lean your head back, he slides his free hand to the back of your neck, gripping gently. 

 

Your other hand is holding the forearm of the hand that’s under your dress. 

 

“Baby, breathe,” he’s saying into your ear, then kissing your neck. And you manage to exhale the breath you were holding. But just as quick, you inhale again as you hit your climax, leaning back against the wall, eyes closed, as it takes over you. 

 

You grab his tie as you open your eyes, that smug grin on his face. He grasps your chin and kisses you, “That’s some dress.”

 

Blushing, you pinch his side before kissing him again. 


	9. Chapter 9

Micro is parked in an alley a couple blocks away. All three of you have tiny earpieces in and Frank has the fake glasses on to record everything; figures they can capture faces of Russo’s associates to run a check on later. 

 

At the bar, you cuddle close to Frank and slide your hand along his torso. With the suit he has on, he couldn’t fit a bulletproof vest underneath. But in the same respect, you couldn’t wear one either. 

 

His hand finds your rear, “It’ll be fine,” he reassures, knowing you as always.

 

Frank gets a club soda and a whiskey for you. With joined hands, you two make your way to the silent auction tables, acting like you belong as you pretend to decide what item to bid on. 

 

None of Russo’s men seem to recognize either of you which makes it easier to make the rounds and scope out what you can. 

 

The night goes normal. You find a table with other couples during the dinner, somehow managing to survive the chit chat from strangers. Russo gives a speech that lasts about twenty minutes. Then the gala continues with music and dancing. 

 

There’s about an hour left of the event when you notice that Russo has sat down at a table to speak with a few men.  His security detail is not as close, the only other time being when he gave his speech but that was too public of a moment. 

 

“Frank,” you whisper and discreetly motion to the table. He looks at you then spots what you see. 

 

“That’ll work,” and he fully faces you, “You ready?” 

 

You give a discreet nod and watch as he carefully takes his suit jacket off then holds it open so you can slide your arms in. The jacket hangs on you and you take his hand. Frank leads you to the bar, where he holds you close as he orders two more drinks. 

 

You wrap your arms around his neck and kiss his jaw, kissing until you reach his lips. Frank pulls you in by the back of your head and kisses you deep, shifting your bodies.

 

“Babe, come dance with me,” you whine as you pull him away from the bar by his tie. Frank follows you the couple feet over and holds your hips.

 

“Not now, baby. You know I hate dancing,” and his arms wrap around you inside the jacket as you wrap your arms around his neck, pulling yourself flush against him.

 

“Even with me?” and you grind your hips against his with a slight pout. 

 

Frank looks over your shoulder at Russo deep in conversation and knows now’s the time. 

 

He wraps his left arm around your body, still inside the jacket, and holds you firm flush against him. He kisses your neck as he slowly pulls the gun from the shoulder holster you sewed inside of it. 

 

When he moves his lips up your neck, you’re still fake giggling to keep the cover, he whispers in your ear, “Stay still.” 

 

He feels you grip the back of his neck and turn your face against his cheek. 

 

Concealed by the suit jacket, right through the fabric, Frank fires three rounds in rapid succession. Each one hitting Russo in their intended target.

 

Chest.

 

Throat.

 

Head.

 

Russo falls out of the chair dead. 

 

As anticipated, the entire room erupts in chaos.  People screaming, some hitting the floor and some running to the exits. 

 

Frank holsters the weapon quickly and you both immediately react as if in fear, running for the exit along with everyone else.  

 

Security are trying to figure out who the shooter is when no one is seen with a weapon. Frank has a tight grip on your hand and just as you both step outside, an explosion erupts several blocks away creating more fear in the gala attendees that are fleeing. 

 

Only you two knew to expect it.

 

You race the couple blocks over and jump in Micro’s car, you in back with Frank up front. Frank rips his fake facial hair off and hands the glasses to Micro, while you quickly undo your hair letting it fall to its natural length. Micro takes off driving as Frank hits a button on a small device and another one of Russo’s warehouses blows up in the distance.

 

As Frank starts undressing, you take out the contacts, throwing them out the window.  Frank gets his top half undressed then takes the t-shirt and hat you hand him from the backseat, putting them on.

 

You slip off the suit jacket, the black fabric concealing the three small bullet holes, and take out the gun, handing it to Frank. Then you wiggle out of the dress throwing on a set of clothes you had waiting back there. Reaching into the bag on the floor, you pull out a few makeup remover wipes and wipe your face clean of makeup.

 

Every possible remnant of being at a party now removed.

 

As the car crosses the bridge to leave Manhattan, one more explosion sounds off in the distant. Frank wearing a satisfied grin. 


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: Implied Smut

It was a few hours’ drive to the cabin Frank has upstate. The adrenaline from the night kept you awake the whole drive.  

 

Micro switches to a different car that’s kept at the cabin and makes the drive back to the city that same day.

 

It’s late, or early however you want to look at it, and once you both have your bags inside, ones that were prepacked and waiting in the trunk of the getaway car, Frank scoops you up and lays you down on the bed. He moves over you and you pull him down, kissing him. 

 

After weeks of hell, it’s finally over.  After this next week stay at the cabin, no more hiding.  No more being without Frank. 

 

You pull his shirt off as he unzips your pants. He pulls them off, then pulls off his own as you sit up and take off your shirt.

 

When he crawls back to you, you grasp his face lovingly.  As you kiss him deeply, you slowly lay back, lips never pulling away from his.

 

The calloused fingertips of his warm hand make you shiver as you feel them skim down your side, stopping at your thigh. 

 

“I can’t believe it’s finally over,” you smile with relief, thumbs stroking his cheekbones. 

 

“Hell of a team we make,” he grins, nuzzling his nose against yours before kissing you.  When he pulls away, his hand smooths over the top of your head, “You’re so goddamn brave, you know that?” voice more soft, in awe. 

 

Blushing at his sentiment, you run your hands across his shoulders, “So are you.” 

 

“No,” he shakes his head, “Don’t do that. Don’t brush off how incredible you are,” his brows lightly crease with earnest.

 

It’s not you; you just don’t take compliments well.  Recognition you’ve been taught to politely pass aside. 

 

“I…I didn’t do anything, really,” you whisper. 

 

As he talks, he slides a hand behind your back and effortlessly unclasps your bra.  He grabs the fabric and pulls it up, where you move each arm so he can slide it off, before he’s reaching past your head, dropping it over the side of the bed.

 

“The huge pile of shit you’ve had to deal with these past several weeks, because of my fuckin’ ass.  Brave ain’t even the right word to describe how fuckin’ tough you’ve been,” he leans down and kisses your skin between your breasts, then leans up to look at you again. 

 

Leaning on his forearm that’s next to your head, his other hand cups your cheek.  Those brown eyes of his looking down into yours as his thumb sweetly brushes along your cheek.  And his voice is so sincere and so soft, that alone makes you want to tear up.  But it’s his words that get that honor.

 

“You could’ve walked away.  Love or not, you could’ve told me that this kind of life was more than you could handle, and listen, I would’ve understood.  On some level, as fuckin’ painful as it would’ve been, I’d of understood…” 

 

And you feel the tears start forming, one even trailing down your temple.  Frank’s eyes never leave yours, his own seeming to have a gloss to them.  Your hands softly rub his sides as you listen.

 

“…But you stayed.  Dug your heels in and wanted to know how to help for Christ’s sake,” and he gives a small grin, “You are beyond brave, beyond tough.  You’re just...so much more than that.”  

 

He leans down, kissing you with such passion yet it’s also the sweetest thing. 

 

“Frank, I’m always going to stay,” you sweetly pet the grit of his stubbly jaw, “There’s nowhere else I need to be than by your side.”

 

Those lips of his show the hint of a small smile before his lips are against yours, “I love you,” he mumbles against your lips.  When he’s looking down at you again, his thumb skims your bottom lip, “I absolutely love you.”

  

The love you two make that night is slow and passionate.  Frank’s hands skim every inch of you, caressing areas that have you shivering. 

 

His mouth works along your body as his hips keep a steady rhythm. When you pull him back to you, lips finding his, soon enough his movements quicken. Your moans of pleasure leading the way for his.

 

You drift to sleep first, his arms wrapped around you.  And he can’t look away.

 

He lightly brushes his knuckles down your face, then the pad of this thumb sweeps across your chin. A light kiss is pressed to your forehead before he falls asleep too.

 

In the morning, you wake up first.  Frank is lightly snoring, his arm draped over you under the sheets.  

 

You know it’s got to be the first time in weeks since he’s truly slept.  Lightly, you place your hand on his cheek, that clean shaven face a welcome sight from the disguise.  Leaning forward a bit more, you just press your lips against his, then kiss his cheek. 

 

Gently you move his arm from around you and slip out from the sheets. You walk into the kitchen and start the coffee pot so it’s waiting for him when he wakes up.

 

As you slip back into bed, Frank’s arm wraps around your nude body again and you look at him. He cracks an eye open before closing it again, a sleepy smirk on his face.

 

“Makin’ sure you don’t wander off again,” with his gravelly voice.

 

And you just smile at him, “I didn’t mean to wake you up,” you snuggle closer to him.

 

His hand moves up and down your back, “Wakin’ up to you is never a bad thing,” and he opens his eyes to cup your cheek, “Hope you don’t mind bein’ here for a week. I know you’re tired of hiding.”

 

“I am, but this doesn’t seem so bad,” you grin, “Having you all to myself in the middle of nowhere, what could be better?” 

 

Frank gives a low, tired chuckle, “For one, me makin’ up the past few weeks to you.” 

 

You kiss him because he looks so cute, “And how’s that?”

 

And just like that, he’s pushing himself up and moving over you, kissing you good.

 

Then he’s pushing the sheets down as his mouth moves down your body. A kiss low on your stomach, working more on your thighs. 

 

It’s when his mouth moves between them, that you get your answer. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> To everyone who's made it to the end of this story, thank you so much for staying with it!!! I really hope you enjoyed it :)
> 
> A/N: I wanted to end the story the same way it started; Frank and the reader being intimate in better times.


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